Lost at the Start

5.

It took me a minute to figure out I'd willed myself somewhere else about two seconds after I'd closed my eyes.

Does that mean this conscious-effort thing is a sham, or did I just want to leave that badly and didn't even fully realize it?

More questions. Still no answers.

I opened my eyes to find that...

I was in the yard.

And even if no human could see me, our pet cats clearly could, and they certainly hadn't forgotten me.

Most of them had already started wandering over to me, and a few had already gathered around my feet, looking up at me expectantly.

The urge to cry rapidly fading, I easily squatted down and put both hands to work as more and more felines came to curl around me and tickle my arms with their tails, surrounding myself with a lovely chorus of purring and happy mews.

"Glad to see you guys are handling this well," I joked.

More happy-cat sounds responded to me.

Deep down, I wondered what would happen after I left for good. When even ghost-me wouldn't be around to come out and pet the furry darlings.

Yeah, mom and dad and sometimes Riley did that too, but I always felt like I had a deeper kinship with the cats than any of them. To them they were pets, to me they were babies, children, kids. I'd never wanted actual human rugrats, but I'd always willingly accepted my given role as a cat mother.

And now I was worried about my feline family's future without me.

What mother wouldn't worry about her babies?

I scooped up on of the smaller ones and let her purr into my neck and shoulder, one hand supporting her and the other continuing to jump from cat to cat at my feet.

After so long though, I had to stand back up because my legs were getting sore, and a circle of expectant eyes followed me all the way up. Whiskered faces silently asked why I'd stopped, and I resisted the urge to laugh at them.

The not-quite-teenage kitty still cradled against my collarbone, I walked towards the back stoop and lowered myself onto the step slowly, just in case a curious cat walked behind me so I wouldn't squish the poor thing.

I let the kitty I'd been holding get down and went back to petting dual-handed for a few minutes.

If I could've been born as any animal, I would've picked a cat. Life would've been so much simpler.

Of course, I knew a cat's life would have it's own problems, but at least there wouldn't be quite as much stress or pressure on a day-to-day basis. And hopefully not nearly as much over thinking. If internet memes had any truth in a cat's mind, maybe not much thinking at all.

It occurred to me to check my watch only after my mind started catching up with me, presumably because this was the first chance I'd really had to relax since I "woke up" this morning.

For instance, it hadn't dawned on me until now: Wait. Why was Riley started dinner so so early? Say school, Jackson's house, and the bit I'd been at the house before my sister came home had taken an hour a piece—a huge overestimate by my internal clock—that still wouldn't've made it past 12:00. And seriously, what person starts a dinner-meal that takes two-hours tops at noon? (I should probably mention we as a family had never really done lunch. Ever. Lunch was a school-exclusive meal around our house. Breakfast, Dinner, and then snack on whatever when you get hungry inbetween.)

Also, the sun was hanging just a little too low in the sky for lunchtime, and I could tell by my shadow. If I had the time right, it should've been almost directly under me. Instead, the bright sun was slanted my silhouette on the grass at...I don't know, a 90 degree angle, or something. Point is: My shadow was slanted to one side, not trying to hide under my feet.